


Blood-Flecked Lips

by badwolfbadwolf



Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Tattooed Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/pseuds/badwolfbadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They’d bantered and kissed and humped against each other, but hadn’t done anything like this before.  Nothing like flirtation with death to bring your baser instincts out to play. </i><br/>James and Q run dangerous missions together in an alternate universe, and James discovers he really doesn't know Q all that well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood-Flecked Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [britishdetective-americanhunters](http://britishdetective-americanhunters.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. She is a fantastic FANTASTIC artist and drew my avatar. Go love on her!
> 
> Based off the video game Brink in which there are two warring sides in a futuristic world.

They burst through the door, lips mashed together, hands searching and groping. James ran his hands up and down Q’s back, pulling back to lick against blood-flecked lips. He wasn’t sure if it was Q’s blood or another’s. They both stopped to breathe heavily, the adrenaline from their completed joint mission lingering as their heart-rates raced.

James licked his lips and raked back Q’s long hair, dust and particles falling out onto the linoleum of his foyer. “I think you cut it too close this time.” His blue eyes were bright and full of concern. And perhaps something else that Q couldn’t identify.

Q frowned slightly and pushed away from James. He walked over to the kitchenette, removing his gun and a belt of explosives, the weapons looking odd and out of place against the pristine countertop.

“I can take care of myself. Just because I’m not as big as you doesn’t mean I’m not competent.”  
At that, James quirked an eyebrow, removing his own weaponry and shrugging out of his stained shirt. “We’ve yet to determine that.”

Q grinned dirtily, eyes running over James’ skin. His thick arms were blackened with soot and gunpowder residue, and a small gash on his abdomen was trickling blood. Q drew closer, his fingers hovering around the edges of the cut, not touching. Their eyes met, bright green to steel-blue, breathing shallowly. Q closed the gap between them, seeking out James’ lips, pressing his dirt-encrusted body to James’ chest. James grimaced slightly as the dirt was rubbed into his cut and he shifted his torso away.

He pulled back from the kiss and brought their foreheads together, feeling the grit grind between their skin. “Perhaps a shower is in order. I’m dying to see you naked.”

Q smiled at the hungry look in James’ eyes and canted his hips forward to brush them together. “Good idea.”

They kicked off their mud-caked shoes and James led them through the flat to the bathroom. It was small and functional, with a decently sized shower stall. James leaned in to turn on the water, cranking up the heat until thick steam was filling the room and fogging up Q’s glasses. James moved to take them off, Q looking slightly uneasy as James handled them. He set them carefully on the countertop before stepping forward and running a finger up the zip of Q’s thick hoodie. The fabric was caked in dirt and blood-spatter, and James’ dirty fingernails puffed up dust in an upward trail. He reached the top, fingers lingering around the throat before pulling the zip down. He maintained eye contact with Q, watching the sharp expression in his eyes turning into something a little more visceral.

They’d bantered and kissed and humped against each other, but hadn’t done anything like this before. Nothing like flirtation with death to bring your baser instincts out to play. And watching Q, hacking away while a bomb exploded mere feet away, shrapnel raining down around them? That was not an experience he wanted to live ever again. He had always thought of himself as a good soldier; nothing was more important than fulfilling the mission. But slowly, green eyes and that clever mouth were beginning to change his mind.

Q shrugged out of the jacket and pulled his tshirt over his head, grimacing in pain at a shoulder injury he hadn’t even been aware existed. James looked over his naked torso in appreciation, the white skin marred by long-healed scars and new abrasions. His fingers followed, trailing a path over his neck and bruised collarbones, and running over a tattoo on the top of his left shoulder. He curiously traced the black lines, pulling Q by the elbow so he turned around, revealing his decorated skin. The tattoo ran over his shoulder blade and across his back, a swirling mix of abstract lines and coding sequences that swept all the way down to disappear into his worn trousers. The dark ink moved gracefully as Q breathed in and out, his ribs growing sharper and more pronounced with each exhalation.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” James’ fingers lingered against the dark lines.

Q shook his head, smiling shyly. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

James moved him up against the sink, Q reaching out to grasp it with both hands while James’ tongue laved against him, trying to taste the ink and sweat of his skin. He licked up the ridges of his spine and over a sharp shoulder blade before coming up and biting along the neck, tasting dirt.

A low rumble came from Q’s throat as he arched his back, pushing his hips backward, desperation beginning to well up inside. James’ hands were sliding everywhere now, over his stomach, down his arms to grasp his wrists, across the painted skin still wet from James’ tongue. Q stared at James’ form in the mirror, watching the hands disappear and reappear along his body while his heart drummed quickly against his ribs.

James reached around the hacker to tug at his trousers, finding the zip and pulling, bringing the pants along too, until Q was beautifully naked. The tattoo extended down along his hip, the lines curling in a graceful arc across the thin skin of his back and ending on the top of his arse. James took a moment to run his hands along the swirls, sweeping along its length while Q shivered, his body still twitching with residual excitement from their earlier brush with death.

The steam had now completely fogged the mirror, obscuring Q’s front from view. James pulled him around roughly, bringing their lips together in a hard kiss, all of the exploration and gentleness finished. They stumbled into the shower, attempting to keep their lips pressed together the entire time. The water was hot and punishing, but it felt good on their sore muscles and dirt-caked skin. It sloshed around them, the water turning a murky grey as it ran down their legs and into the industrial-style drain.

As James’ teeth found a sensitive spot along Q’s neck, the younger man gasped and rutted his hips against James’ leg. James pulled Q forward, pinning him against his body while the hacker ground against him, legs fitted around the thick thigh.

James was breathing heavily against Q’s ear, his hair flattened with the water and curling around his ears. “Why do you…” He paused as Q’s hand found his cock, rough and insistent. The hand began to stroke him with long motions. “Why do you…” The hand twisted and he faltered again.

“Why do you…?” Q prompted, kissing along James’ neck, licking along an old scar as James shivered and sought out Q’s own cock.

“Why do you stay so close to the danger?”

Q’s rhythm stuttered briefly before resuming. “I have to. You know what it’s like out there, what needs to change… and you know better than most about sacrifice.”

James could feel his body reacting, tightening, coiling. “Yes,” he ground out, both agreeing with Q’s statement and articulating his body’s reactions at the same time. “Yes.” Q bit down on his neck, hard. James grunted with the pain, loving it, loving Q’s hands and teeth and skin, loving feeling alive. The sensations built up, his body growing hot as he felt a building tension that suddenly swelled upward through his blood. He came, his body tight against Q’s, come spilling over his hand and down their legs, the water sluicing over them and washing it away.

Q watched James’ face as the sensations overtook him. The delicate brow creased, eyes scrunched tight, and lips parted as silent cries escaped in the form of quick breaths. When James had finally finished he looked up at Q, eyes glassy, lips smiling as relaxation curled through his body. He dropped to his knees, the concrete rough on his skin but he didn’t mind. He pulled Q into his mouth, his tongue drawing along the underside of his slender cock, one hand reaching backward to cup his balls while Q began to thrust shallowly and thread his hands through the dirty blonde hair. When James’ hands searched backward and pushed against sensitive skin, Q was suddenly coming with James’ name on his lips, a beautiful, beautiful sound. James felt pride and contentment seep through his tired limbs as he felt Q spill in his mouth. He swallowed everything, remaining attached until Q sagged against him, completely spent.

Then he withdrew, looking up at Q’s completely wrecked expression. He was leaning against James, hands on his shoulders, knees looking like they were about to buckle. James gave the briefest of tugs and then they were both sitting on the floor of the shower, watching the drain grow dirty with their dust and blood and semen. They sat for several long minutes with Q’s head pressed against James’ shoulder, hands entwined, limbs splayed outward as exhaustion crept through their spent bodies.

When the water began to grow cold James stood up, pulling Q up against him. He ran soap over the thin body quickly before doing the same to himself, avoiding the open wound on his abdomen. They stepped out of the shower and turned off the water, the sudden chill in the room an unwelcome intrusion into their contented haze.

“Sleep. Bedroom,” James murmured, toweling Q off and looking at his glazed-over eyes. Suddenly they could hardly move their limbs and they fell into the unmade bed with barely enough strength to pull the covers up. Q was out the instant his head hit the pillow and James took a moment to smile at the drying hair, pointed nose and the peek of the tattoo that the sheet didn’t quite cover. And then exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep, completely dead to the world.

 

Hours later James woke, unsure as to the reason why. It was nearly pitch black and Q was snoring quietly next to him with the occasional loud snort. In the dim light he could see the soft rise and fall of Q’s chest underneath the sheet and he felt a little stir of something deep within. He didn’t sleep with anyone. Ever. But here this young hacker was, thick hair and long fingers and lines of code tattooed everywhere. And James didn’t mind.

And then he heard it- the reason he had woken. An unfamiliar communicator trilling. Why hadn’t Q turned the bloody thing off? He unhappily threw the pillow over his head while it droned on interminably before finally stopping.

He was just drifting off when the blasted thing started again. Groaning, James moved to poke Q in the ribs but the mop of curls just swatted him away and rolled over to resume snoring. James huffed and dragged himself from the bed, searching in the dark for Q’s trousers so he could silence it. He finally located them and dug around in the pockets until he pulled the thing out, triumphant. He pressed on the top button to turn it off but the screen flashed up, suddenly very bright in the darkness. He hadn’t meant to read it. Really, he hadn’t.

Nothing about the message was out of the ordinary, just a request for a meeting, yet something made James pause to look at it again. The name of the sender was unfamiliar, but a nagging feeling of recognition lingered in the back of his mind. And then suddenly pieces fell into place that had always been there, hiding in plain sight, and the unfamiliar initials matched up with snippets of conversation he’d heard about traitors and code names. Q. Q was working for the Resistance. _Bloody hell_. Cold hard dread formed in the pit of his stomach as every trace of satiety and contentment was sucked from him in an instant and he felt the colour drain from his face.

Thoughts fell over themselves as he examined every moment he had spent with the hacker, showing him how to bypass security protocols and taking him into restricted areas, watching those nimble fingers tapping into computer systems and grinning with glee. And Q’s naive, smiling face and curling hair and innocent timbre. And deadly hands. Had it all been a front? Was he just using him for access to information? Could Q really be his enemy?

 _Yes,_ his mind said. _Of course._ But his heart ached in a terrible, lurching, despairing way. Because he knew what he had to do. He had to turn him in. And they would never let him live. Q was a traitor and was sabotaging their mission. The people he worked for were trying to destroy everything, undermine their painstaking work, work that was James’ whole purpose in life. He allowed himself a moment of pained regret, there in the dark, alone with the beautiful double-agent and the traces of feelings those lovely eyes had dredged up from his broken spirit.

As he shut down the device and returned to bed he felt his heart harden. Q sighed, blissfully unaware, as James tugged on the covers and rolled to his side, hating himself and hating what would happen in the morning. The sickening hollow feeling lodged in his gut and he lay awake for hours. Sleep never came and the dawn was met with bleary eyes and Q’s light smile that faded to fear as he recognized the pained look of betrayal on James’ face.


End file.
